Trail Mix
by Junsui Kegasu
Summary: 100 Bleach drabbles involving every character under the sun. Future yaoi, yuri, het, lemon, lime, noncon, and much, much more!
1. Author's Note

This is a general author's note to each and every one of these drabbles, so I figured that I would just make it the first and foremost chapter. The idea of "Trail Mix" came from an idea I had in the shower. I love doing 100 themes, but I adore too many pairings in Bleach to just want to do one. So I decided that I would draw pairings out of a bowl. Yes, it results in a lot of crack, but I gave myself the liberty to reject the pairing if it was too out-there for me (this only happened a handful of times.)

That said and done, I do not own Bleach. I only use Kubo Tite-sensei's marvelous characters for my own sick amusement.

A guide for how the pairings work:

_Character_ and_ Character_ - The two characters are involved in the same piece of writing, but that's about it.

_Character + Character_ - The two characters are friends or despise each other, and if you squint/really want to, you could pretend that they are something more, be it consensual or not.

_Character _x_ Character - _There is a romantic or sexual relationship (be it consensual or not) established between the two characters.

Enjoy "Trail Mix"!


	2. Chad and Yachiru:  Shatter

That day had been one of the few perfect ones that occurred during the rainy season in Karakura, or Japan in general. The sun was out, and was supposed to be out for the entirety of the day. Though both the heat and humidity were up high, Chad wasn't concerned. He had lived in Okinawa, and that had been miserable compared to this. This was okay.

He had planned on spending his day relaxing on the banks of the river, staring up at the occasional clouds and letting his mind wander. For the normal person, an activity like this was difficult to do all day, but for him, it was quite easy. He spent a majority of the time with his thoughts as it was; basking under the sun was just a pleasant adage to it. Letting out a deep, contented sigh, Chad threw his arm over his eyes and relished both the shade and the heat of his sun-warmed arm. It was quiet, not because people weren't out but because this was a relatively calm part of the city. Every so often there would be the call of a child or the quiet chatter of a walking couple, but nothing too loud.

For this reason, he didn't much regard the pitter-patter of little feet he heard growing closer until a high pitch scream that sounded vaguely familiar penetrated his pool of thoughts and had him sitting upright. He had no time to consider the reason for the scream, because a small thing had just attacked his arm and was giggling insanely. A glance down met him with an obnoxiously pink head and he sighed, giving Juuichibantai fukutaichou Kusajishi Yachiru a vaguely annoyed look before laying back down, his peace shattered.

He had forgotten that half of Soul Society was here.


	3. Rukia and Ulquiorra: Mediator

Rukia was beginning to think that it was Gin who planned all of the deployments of Espada to Karakura, due to both their erratic pattern, frequency, and of course, the element of surprise. Behind her, the battle raged and every so often she could feel the earth shudder beneath her feet. Buildings were smashed into and damaged. With any luck, Urahara would be able to trick the human world into figuring that it was an earthquake. Even better, he'd be able to make them forget this little incident even happened.

At the moment, however, she had an opponent of her own to deal with. A much smaller number of Espada than normal had come, only two, and Ichigo was taking care of the other one with little to no problem. Apparently he liked to fight hard and brutal, much like Zaraki-taichou, and Ichigo always came out on top. She wondered if the redhead grasped that this was a dangerous situation; he seemed to enjoy fighting the blue-haired, obnoxious Arrancar more than Rukia thought he should.

By the slight look of disgust in her own opponents starkly apathetic green eyes, the slight boy in front of her agreed. She knew him to be blisteringly powerful, but he hadn't made the first move and she knew that she was no chance for him. She had told Ichigo that she would fend him off, but that was only so he didn't worry. He tended to do poorly when he worried. It looked like, however, that her frets had also been in vain. The Espada's stance was relaxed, almost weary, but Rukia didn't trust him enough to turn around and watch the fight like he was. She only stared at him in silence, cold and calculating.

"Please excuse Grimmjow. He's always like this."

The emotionless alto voice surprised her and a delicate eyebrow rose. The voice continued. "I am not here to fight you. I am only here to claim that I attempted to stop him to avoid getting myself into trouble."

And suddenly, it sunk in that her role was the same this time, to watch out for Ichigo and intervene when the two inevitably went too far and attempted to destroy Japan. It was almost amusing – a Shinigami and an Espada peacemakers for the same battle.


	4. Aizen x Ichigo: Teamwork

When they had first managed to infiltrate Los Noches, Ichigo had assumed that this strange reiatsu-sapping rock was some kind of marble, maybe even warm for the energy it absorbed. Bound to one of its many pillars in what he assumed was the meeting room he realized that it wasn't like anything he had really felt before. It vibrated strangely against his bared skin from the energy of it, but the texture was somewhere between rough and smooth.

He wondered why he was pondering this kind of thing. Perhaps it was to take his mind away from the shame of being nude and bound in the presence of a very clothed and very powerful man. Going further, perhaps it had something to do with the fact that said man was in extremely close proximity with him. Maybe if he didn't think about it, it wouldn't exist. Maybe this was just Aizen's sword – he hadn't forgotten that thing – and if he didn't believe it was there, then it really wasn't and he would be allowed to free. Hell, he was probably still wearing clothes for all he knew!

But the warm lips that sealed over his in the next instant felt very real, definitely very tangible, and he felt it was hard to pretend that this wasn't happening anymore. Panicking, Ichigo snarled and bit down on Aizen's lower lip viciously, feeling warm blood laced with ominous power seep into his mouth. He had tasted his own blood before, and knew it to be metallic; this was just sour.

Aizen, however, did not appear deterred. He let out a booming chuckle that sounded both practiced and evil. Apparently, Aizen Sousuke was a very easily amused villain. Then, a lone fingertip touched his shoulder and electrifying pain laced through his body. Ichigo couldn't help it; he screamed. It felt like reiatsu was entering his body too fast, ripping a pathway inside of him, and then the finger was gone and his body tingled, quivered helplessly. Behind him, the vibration in the stone got a little stronger. He didn't have the coherency to fight that body that pressed against him and where in every world that he knew of had Aizen's clothing gone?

"It takes two, Kurosaki Ichigo," the man's voice slithered into his ear. "Teamwork, if you want to use such a word." The next pain came then, and Ichigo found his scream more of a choked sob, before his mind blanked out and he tried very hard to just feel the vibrating stone behind him.


	5. Ukitake:Matsumoto: Hatred

Because of his condition, Ukitake Juushirou was required to make a trip to the fourth division once every week for testing, and occasionally to pick up medicine. It was a very generous concern of Unohana-taichou to keep him alive much longer than he probably should have lived with this. It was unknown whether or not Shinigami could die of natural causes like this, but nobody was willing, especially not he, to figure it out through his illness.

In the recent days after the betrayal, his schedule hadn't changed, but after he had checked out he decided to visit the rooms of all of the people still in the hospital. He had visited the poor Hinamori girl, all hooked up to machines, and the little Juubantai taichou. It had never been more apparent to him, even when he tried to shove candy down the child's throat, how young he really was until he watched him watch that girl with such sad eyes. He couldn't stand to watch it for more and had left as soon as it was polite. Most other visits had gone without incident, except for walking in on an extremely intoxicated Hisagi Shuuhei and Kira Izuru, but word had it that it was a rarity to see either sober, so he had let it go.

The last room, according to the list he had asked oh-so-politely for Unohana-taichou to make him was Matsumoto Rangiku, the only one known to have befriended Ichimaru Gin. He expected another repeat of what the last room had yielded when he knocked on the door and was allowed permission to enter. Instead, to his surprise, the busty woman was quite sober, though there were a few flasks of sake strewn about in odd places. She didn't actually need to be in the hospital, but because she was constantly here for the many people who did need to be, Unohana-taichou had arranged for a bit of a suite to be arranged. The woman was currently sprawled over the couch, looking like the epitome of depression. This could be awkward.

"I just figured I'd stop in," he said pleasantly, or as pleasantly as he could. "See how you were doing."

"Well, what does it look like?" Matsumoto told him, the normally sultry tone gone from her voice. She sounded tired, and a bit like she had been crying. A dark eyebrow raised, and had he no heart he could have reprimanded her for snapping at a superior. Instead, he sighed and approached her.

"It's not like you have to pretend you're all right," he said with an even tone. "Everyone knows what kind of relationship you had." The white-haired captain left the statement vague, knowing the sharp sting that came along with specifics. Instead, he got an almost-chilling laugh, so different from the normal tinkling sound that Matsumoto liked to give off when she was amused.

"What relationship? I hate him," she hissed, looking at him.

In those eyes, Ukitake Juushirou saw that she almost believed herself. He nodded and excused himself to leave.


	6. Matsumoto:Gin: Gather

"_Nah… Ran-chan… Look look ova' here… they's still on the trees ova' here…"_

"_They taste different off the tree, Gin… You don't like them like that, remember?"_

"_Mmm… but m'hungry."_

"_Mou, I am, too… I guess you can take them if you think you're gonna eat them."_

"_Hmm… if I don' like 'em, I'll jus' give 'em to Ran-chan."_

"_Like you had to suggest it! You're sharing those anyways!"_

"_Ah, Ran-chan. Always knowin' what she wants, ne?"_

Gray eyes flitted open, alert and a little desperate. Matsumoto Rangiku sat up, sending her auburn hair tumbling over her shoulders in a sleep-tangled mess, which see seemed to take no heed of as she ran a hand through it. The dream could have been a fond one, but now it was just torture. Of course, she had already figured out that these dreams would not have come had that bitter event never happened. Her mind wouldn't need to conjure images of that strange boy and his smile. At least back then, the smile was sincere.

The luxuries of living in Seireitei no longer appealed to her. They had lost their luster long ago, when that smile of her best friend became glaringly fake and she was the only one who could tell. If there ever was a person who wanted badly to reverse time, it was she. And she would go back to the not-quite-golden, more like tarnished silver years of her childhood.

With a long-suffering sigh, Matsumoto sat up and made her way over the desk, pulling open a drawer and sifting through a mess before she pulled out a small plastic bag. Seireitei didn't sell peasant food like dried persimmons and other things. It was all very good and the sake was marvelous, but her favorite was this simplicity and it always would be.

In the fray, Gin's precious little persimmon tree had been destroyed. What she held were the precious last remnants of the fruit that Gin had dried with such care. She picked one from the bag and held it to her face for a moment, just inhaling the smell. Gin's hands had always held the same fruity, sticky scent from constantly munching on these things.

They had saved her life when the two had met. Now she popped it into her mouth and chewed, but when she swallowed, she still felt as empty as before. There was no satisfaction in food she hadn't worked hard to gather herself.


	7. Ichigo and Shunsui: Straighten

"Straighter, kid."

Ichigo growled, tightening his grip on the bamboo stick that he had been training with for the better part of the morning. Soul Society had decided – much against his will – to begin training him from numerous angles in preparation for the Great War that they planned. He didn't know many details about this war – he doubted it was talked about much at all, considering how easily they had been deceived before. It was kind of annoying. He would've liked to know, if he was supposedly such a key player…

"I said straighter, not tighter," came the lazy voice from across the practice field.

"It is straighter!" Ichigo replied rudely, taking a slight step forward. "You just can't see it, old man." His tutors in the past hadn't minded one bit, and Kyouraku Shunsui was no exception. The man was lying with his limbs outstretched, and how he could tell that Ichigo was doing wrong was both unknown and annoying.

"No, it's not. I'd tell you that I wasn't born yesterday, but-" A carefree laugh penetrated the air between annoyed and relaxed. "I'm afraid you'd just agree."

That was it. He tossed the bamboo stick down, relishing the hollow echo it left in the air. i That /i made the pink-clad captain look up and tilt his hat away so he could see.

"The only thing that needs to be straightened is your attitude and this place's priorities!" he yelled before stamping away to go question Yamamoto about why he couldn't be told a damn thing again, though he knew the answer. He didn't hear the laugh that again sounded behind him.


	8. Isshin and Yachiru: Thanks

It's been three months since the Great War and Kurosaki Isshin figured out a long time ago that his son had been a key player. He had also confronted said son about in a very Isshin-like way, and he's pretty sure Ichigo gets the message now that he should never hide such important information from his father again! Not that it would stop him… but that would just make the chase more fun. Especially now that he's allowed to use his previously suppressed power to hunt him down.

Since the family was now more or less entirely exposed to Soul Society, there was no reason to hide the Shinigami coming over by only letting them visit in small numbers. Quite often a whole group of them came over and played outside, while Isshin sat somewhere off and watched, smoking a cigarette idly. Today he watched as Ichigo and Renji got into the seventh fight of the afternoon, contemplating butting in, when a small, pink child approached him.

Kusajishi Yachiru did not come to the Kurosaki place often, and it was always with her precious captain. Today, there was no captain, but there was the bald man she also seemed quite attached to. Isshin didn't really know her all that well as she sat next to him and proceeded to watch the fight.

"Icchy and Pineapple have boring fights," she remarked after a minute, sweet as can be. Isshin blinked at her.

"Well then, what's a real fight?"

"Oh, there's blood involved in those." If it was disturbing to hear a small child make such a remark so casually, Isshin didn't show it. The girl beamed and then continued. "Icchy got into a lot of real fights when we went to go see Fox-Face, Four-Eyes, and Braid-Head again, though! And you know, you're not supposed to live if you lose a fight, but me'n Ken-chan saved Icchy from gettin' killed all the time! I think Icchy made Ken-chan change his mind about that kinda thing, you know?"

Despite her age and the fact that the tiny pink-haired girl wasn't being truly serious about the whole thing, Isshin took the weight of the situation as a father should. He had left Soul Society because he hadn't cared much for it over his human world, not liking the apathetic nature of Shinigami. Perhaps this new generation was different. Or perhaps Ichigo had changed them. He didn't know.

"Thanks, then," he said when he finished his cigarette, snuffing it out in the grass beside him. "For saving Ichigo." He meant it, but said it in a light tone.

Yachiru beamed at him. "You're a funny man. That was a long time ago." Then she ran off to play with the others.


	9. Shuuhei and Chad: Thwarted

If he dodged left, the larger boy wasn't too far behind him; it was both exhilarating and slightly peeving at the same time. He hadn't trained with someone who could match his speed in a long time, and to boot, this mere child had strength that could have bent his sword had it not been of the soul-hosting kind.

It was exhilarating.

Shuuhei couldn't help but grin as he countered the next blow only to be met by another hand, which he grabbed accordingly. He hadn't lost yet, even if he was backed into a corner.

Then, pain shot through his skull. He let out a startled yelp as the back of his head connected with the wall and opened his eyes dizzily to see two dark-chocolate eyes looking absolutely shocked.

"I didn't mean to do that," Chad admitted.

"If you had been a Hollow there, I would've lost," Shuuhei told him back, rubbing his forehead gently.

"Yes, but I am not a villain and you need to stop going easy on me."

"Oh? You like a bit of a beating."

And then the fights started back up, two men exhilarated to attempt a faux-defeat of the "enemy".


	10. Grimmjow and Hitsugaya: Headstrong

"Y'know, you're a bit sized snack for someone like me."

A growl and the slight shifting of earth and cloth as one moves.

"You realize that you're frozen up to your neck, and if you don't shut up-"

"Why don't you _make_ me shut up? Just freeze my face! I think you like me insulting you."

"You know what?"

"What?"

Silence. Then the sound of ice cracking.

"Make a decision quick, kid, or I'm busting outta here and eating you in one bite."

A scream and a rushing sound. The cold is almost audible.

"Fuck you, kid. I can't feel my god damn legs anymore."

"Just shut up."

"Will you both stop it and kill each other already?" An annoyed voice, definitely feminine this time. Matsumoto shakes her head. "You two are such babies…"


	11. Hitsugaya and Aizen: Nightmares

As he walked into the chamber, it was almost as if he knew exactly what he would find. The sight before him, though he should certainly have reacted heavily, only made his eyes widen as he looked at the body of his dead friend, she who he had tried to valiantly to protect.

"You're too late," a booming voice said, so familiar and yet far too sinister to be who he thought it was…

Aizen was then behind him, and he spun, facing an insane grin. The glasses were gone and his hair was slicked back and oh, god, Hinamori's blood was hitting his feet, warm and cooling so fast and she was dead, wasn't she?

She couldn't be saved.

He didn't save her in time.

And by the looks of the blade that seemed to be falling in slow motion, he was next.

Just as the blade connected with his head, what should've been a starburst of pain was a lunge as Hitsugaya woke up tangled in his bed sheets and heart racing a mile a minute. Hinamori. She was… she was…

She was alive. He sought out her reiatsu frantically and only calmed when he felt it, holding onto it like a lifeline.

His recurring dream should have been anything but motivation to kill Aizen, but that was what it came down to. He would regret the day he let so much as a tear fall from Hinamori's fair face.


	12. Ukitake and Aizen: Thread

He has been a member of Soul Society's finest, the Gotei Juusantai, for a long time, longer than he'd like to admit to, really. Whenever anybody asks him just how long that is, he always flashes his kindest smile, the one that his old age hasn't dared touch, and tells them about how he and Kyouraku-taichou were part of the first graduating class of the Shinigami academy.

Everybody knows the Shinigami academy is nearly three thousand years old, after all.

So, really, after about half of that number, he's stopped counting how old he is. He doesn't even know. The point now is that he has been in Soul Society a long time. Granted, so had Aizen Sousuke. He remembered when the graduate had just joined the ranks, remembered thinking that one day, he'd be a captain.

Well, really, nobody was surprised a thousand years ago when Aizen Sousuke became captain of his own division. Something about the man had always intrigued Ukitake Juushirou and they had been friends, or he had thought they had been, throughout the years. They often had tea together in the receiving room of either the thirteenth or fifth division barracks and had exchanged stories. The brunette with a kind smile always had innocent inquiries that would help him be the best captain he could be, and Ukitake made his best effort to answer those inquiries.

He tells these stories to all of the young Shinigami who are so bitter about his betrayal; it helps relieve his own shock.

But, he knows with a grim tightening of that smile that is indeed something borne of his age, Aizen Sousuke could not cut the ties he had with everybody, though he tried very hard. Compared with the white-haired man, the evil mastermind is truly just a child.

Often, children don't realize that strings cannot be cut on the first try.


	13. Urahara:Renji: Wisdom

Really, Abarai-kun had been a Shinigami for some time, hadn't he? He certainly seemed to act more like an academy student more than he did a fukutaichou, Urahara pondered over his rice. His eyes were a dead giveaway to his feelings, and right now the situation was far too dire for that.

A slow eater, the exiled captain didn't click his chopsticks together on the table until the much quicker Tessai, Jinta, and Ururu were already about their evening activities and Renji finally sighed and was beginning to sulk off to his room.

"Abarai-kun," he sang, calling him back with that exposed look still in his eye. "Sit, sit, sit," he gestured to where the redhead had previously been sitting while he ate his meal and Urahara got situated, resting his hands in the sleeves of his overcoat and leaning back a bit.

"Are those glasses just for show or do you use them to cover up your eyes? You're very bad at keeping an unreadable expression." He was never one to beat around the bush, and Renji raised an eyebrow, looking confused. He _still _had that look in his eye!

Urahara sighed and fixed the hat on his head before taking the bowl in front of the younger man and scooping a generous serving of rice into it. "Eat up. My advice to you is to keep the hunger out of your eye, or one day, we shall tease you to the breaking point, Freeloader-san!"

Renji had never looked more grateful in the entire time Urahara had known him.


	14. Urahara and Hinamori: Threats

The whole situation had been a little bit ironic, Urahara thought as he leaned back in a chair. It had been a little hard not to be bitter at the sight of them all, even the Soutaichou himself sitting in his basement cavern. Listening to his plan. Agreeing with his plan. _Relying on him._ All to defeat the man that he had known was evil for a century while they had allowed themselves to be brainwashed.

Bitterness was an awful thing, though, and hadn't dealt well with his disposition so the blonde man had let it slide. Besides, all was well now and with any luck, his careful planning would at least greatly weaken Aizen. After all, one didn't just get the best of Urahara Kisuke any more than one time, and Aizen had already had his shot.

Yes, it was a very good plan indeed. He was quite pleased with himself over this one.

A knock came at his door and with his normal cheery disposition the exiled Shinigami slid it open, smiling in surprise down at the so-young Hinamori-fukutaichou until it slipped off his face at the awareness of her blade partially out of its sheath.

Well there was a sobering sight if he had ever seen one!

"What can I do for you, Fukutaichou-san?"

"I don't like your plan." Somehow, though he barely knew the girl, an infant compared to him, he got the feeling that this kind of insolence wasn't a habit by the way her voice shook.

"Well," Urahara said with his smile back in place, even though his ego stung just a little bit. "Do you have any other suggestions?"

"I don't want to hurt Aizen-taichou. I don't want you to hurt him, either."

And then it clicked. This girl had been brainwashed, by the looks of it, so completely that her mind still clutched onto the illusion even after the sword abandoned her. It was all she had left. Somehow it seemed like the most brutal thing Aizen had ever done, though that was absurd.

"If you hurt him, I'll kill you," she finished, her eyes not quite glaring but not quite sobbing either. It was a little eerie. He resisted the urge to snort at the threat, and then she was gone, ambling down the hall to her own quarters.

Funny how these things work; her threat only added a new flawless layer to his already solid resolve.


	15. Isshin and Rukia: Earth

Most spirits in Soul Society could care less about the world, at least where she's from. In the seventy-eighth Rukongai, though life was generally miserable, most of the souls who came there had lived lives far worse. Hunger had been involved, and most lost souls there never had to feel that again. It was a blessing, when it came down to it.

But Rukia had died so young that she didn't remember the world. Not really, anyways. She didn't remember where she had come from, what she had died from, or what her parents looked like. Those secrets were known only by her sister, dead for the second time and for good in the bleached, tiled confines of the Seireitei.

She couldn't help but want to know, standing on Ichigo's roof dressed in his sister's clothing. What was her actual last name? Did she have any relatives that still lived? Had her family been half as dysfunctional as Ichigo's?

The last thought made her smile. Ichigo and his family meant more to her than she'd like to admit. They'd crawled into the crawlspace of her heart and nestled there quite comfortably. She didn't have the heart to kick them out just yet, though she knew that getting attached was looked down upon, both in her new family (on paper only, for the word connotes warmth and the Kuchiki household was anything but) and her career.


End file.
